However, the Butchers know full well that their tribe appreciates diversity of the meat as much as the next cave full of predators. Whilst the traditional eating songs resound through the feast halls,
the Butchers punctuate steaming platefuls of cavebeast with raw Bretonnian in wild garlic, tough Dwarf-meat served in a gromril case, thick sausages stuffed with the finest Empire soldiery, and — widely seen as a delicacy —tender Elf legs fried in horse blood. This is usually washed down with Ogre beer, a thick, viscous and foul concoction, with equal quantities of honeycomb and hornet swimming in its murky depths. Ogre beer is intoxicating enough to hospitalise a Dwarf, and is commonly taken from a drinking horn snapped from the skull of a beast the owner has killed himself.
The greatest feasts are staged after the defeat and subsequent ransacking of a great caravan, the mile-long trading convoys that crawl through the Badlands towards the Ogre kingdoms and finally Cathay. These armoured land-trains are invariably well defended (often by rival Ogre tribes), but when a predatory Ogre tribe does finally manage to conquer one, it finds itself knee-deep in luxury goods, gold and quality firewood. An Ogre tribe can subsist on the sacking of a single great caravan for a full month, and the subsequent feast is often a week-long orgy of food and drink that is heard for miles around. Sadly, these occasions are becoming rare, as the iron rule of Tradelord Greasus Goldtooth the Overtyrant forces the tribes into a new era of mercenary activity and cooperation with the human race. Slowly but surely the Ogre kingdoms have become aware that gold is just as valuable as meat, and far more likely to last the winter.
[2g]